


i do not think that they will sing to me

by absopositivelutely



Series: soul searching [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, I'm so sorry, Marauders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absopositivelutely/pseuds/absopositivelutely
Summary: courage ran in their blood, but it was fear that was carved into his bones.(or; the fall of peter pettigrew.)





	i do not think that they will sing to me

**Author's Note:**

> this can be read normally, or you could start with the last section and move up to the first. i couldn't pick whether to go chronologically forwards or backwards, so it's up to you! as always, thanks [visheretowrite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/visheretowrite/pseuds/visheretowrite) for beta-ing this and screaming at me for what i've done. i'm so sorry.
> 
> (title is from the poem excerpted below.)

 

 

 

i have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

and i have seen the eternal footman hold my coat, and snicker,

and in short, i was afraid.

 

— _the love song of j alfred prufrock_ , t s eliot

 

 

* * *

**i.**

* * *

 

despite his best efforts, he already stands out. he shuffles to the gryffindor table without looking up from his feet. he doesn’t need to look up to hear the whispers. _hatstall,_ a voice floats across the room. _what other house d’you think the hat wanted for him?_

 

he wonders if maybe this was the sorting hat’s idea of a cruel joke. gryffindor or slytherin? what kind of question was that. _neither,_ he tried to say. he was certainly too scared to face a slytherin. and gryffindor? out of the question. he is not brave by any means. but he is too afraid to argue and he has been sitting there for so long that he gingerly lifts the hat from his head and sets it on the stool.

 

the boy after him is a gryffindor, too. he belongs here, without a doubt. he whoops and pumps his fist as he saunters confidently to the table. peter thinks the applause this potter boy gets is louder than what he’d gotten.

 

he doesn’t blame anyone for it. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

 

.

 

he thinks they are friends now, but there isn’t much of a difference between himself and the other boys black and potter trip in the halls. if anything he is even more pitiful. he has attached himself to remus’s side and they may want remus, but he suspects that remus fought for him too. he’s thankful for that, at least. and maybe it takes a nudge from remus to remind black and potter that peter needs to be included too. that’s okay. at least he’s part of something.

 

it takes a great deal of bravery, he thinks, before he can look them in the eye. he is surprised to see a genuine happiness in their matching grins. _hey, pete,_ james says. _ready to go?_ sirius asks.

 

remus tells him later that james and sirius were afraid that peter didn’t like them. peter wants to laugh at that. as if they could be afraid of anything, much less him.

 

 _you’re the best person out of all of us, you know,_ remus insists, and this time peter really does laugh. the look on remus’s face is infinitely wiser than his mere eleven years. it spoke of fireplaces and long-empty spaces and places that did not move on with the years. he gives peter a smile laced with sadness and repeats himself. the earnestness in his eyes cuts into his soul.

 

.

 

_sirius i don’t know if that’s a good idea—_

 

_don’t be stupid, peter, of course it is._

 

fingers running through dark hair. a proud smirk and folded arms. he loves sirius, damned if he doesn’t, but sometimes sirius cast his shadow too far and asked for so much more than peter could give. sirius had universes in his head and held galaxies in his hands and peter was just a star. and stars shine brightly, but his was never bright enough.

 

that will not stop him from trying, though. he gives and he gives and there is no fight left in him when he finally agrees with sirius’s idea. mcgonagall thinks sirius is a bad influence but what does she know? peter doesn’t think he deserves the chances sirius gives him and he’ll take what he can get. remus speaks up for them both and peter tells him to shut up. if sirius and james can do it, so can they. it never occurs to peter that stars shine brighter when you look at them alone.

 

besides, if sirius hung the stars from his fingers then peter would not exist without him.

 

* * *

**ii.**

* * *

 

james tells him that it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to be like them, that he doesn’t have to do this. _it’s fine,_ he insists, and though that is all he says peter knows the real meaning behind those words. what he means is _we know you’re scared,_ what james wants to say is _you’re not like us,_ and none of them have ever said it but peter knows. it is never spoken out loud but it is there in the shared glances between james and sirius, in the gentle kicks remus gives sirius under the table, in the raised eyebrows and nods exchanged from remus to james.

 

_we just—we want to protect you, pete, and one day that might mean protecting you from us._

 

 _yeah? well maybe you’ll have to protect yourself from me._ peter waves his wand at james and it puffs out a wisp of smoke. james laughs and throws his arm around peter’s shoulders. _alright, pettigrew, we’ll make a wizard out of you yet. let’s go kick some ass._

 

and if anyone notices when james shoots off two spells in quick succession at the duel, one towards his opponent and one towards peter’s, nobody says anything. peter whispers a quiet, fervent _thank you_ to james afterwards, hiding in one of the secret passages behind the tapestry, and james just tilts his head and gives peter a cryptic smile.

 

_what for?_

 

.

 

is it selfish to be grateful that someone else feels just as alone as you?

 

he hates himself for thinking it but he can’t deny that the thought is there. mostly, though, mostly he is overwhelmed with the need to make it better. remus has always been there. this is the least he can do. the sun is setting, painting the sky with flames that fade into a pink and purple haze. it is beautiful but that’s not his concern right now. they are standing near the willow and remus is looking at them with wide eyes and it is a look that peter is well acquainted with himself.

 

 _werewolf monster danger:_ these are the thoughts that should be circulating in peter’s mind but instead he wants nothing more than to hug the boy who had always been so quietly strong. he hesitantly puts his arms around remus, who hugs him back with a fierceness that he doesn’t expect. remus looks at them, deep serene pools in his eyes, and tells them that they’re the _best friends anyone could ever have._

 

peter isn’t sure why he suddenly wants to cry. he hugs remus again instead. he may be silently grateful that someone else felt out of place, but that doesn’t mean he wanted that person to be remus.

 

he also feels as if he’s proven himself to someone. to whom, he doesn’t know.

 

.

 

the slytherins again. peter edges behind sirius and is almost successful in disappearing until sirius grabs his arm and pulls him to stand beside him. _peter come on,_ sirius whines. _say something._

 

peter forces himself to make eye contact with them. snape and mulciber and avery. james is fuming but sirius tells him to cool it. _you again,_ peter says, voice colder than he had imagined it would be. sirius and james take over, of course, and remus throws in a few words. peter is hiding behind sirius by the time the slytherins leave but sirius still turns to him with a grin.

 

 _nice job, pete,_ sirius says brightly, and peter high-fives him with the biggest smile he can manage. sirius claps him on the back and slings an arm across his shoulders and he is so happy he beams all the way back to the common room.

 

* * *

**iii.**

* * *

 

 _d’you want some candy?_ the question falls easily from james’s lips, a lazy smile tossed in peter’s direction. _i can buy you some._

 

his cheeks flush with heat. surely his staring hadn’t been that obvious. before he can say anything james has a bag in his hands and coins on the counter. he tries to protest when he’s handed the small plastic bag.

 

 _we can share,_ james insists, fishing out a chocolate frog. _‘sides, next time we’re here i’ll be on a date with lily. might as well buy candy for you now._

 

he _isn’t_ on a date with lily the next time they go to hogsmeade. sirius and remus spend the day checking if lily is in a store before they enter and peter busies himself with ushering james away when sirius and remus emerge with wide eyes and shaking heads. at the end of the day peter proudly presents james with a bag of candy.

 

 _who needs a date when i’ve got you guys?_ james proclaims between mouthfuls of his third box of bertie bott’s. something warm settles somewhere in peter’s chest when sirius passes out butterbeer and calls for a cheer. it isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

 

.

 

 _animagi,_ mcgonagall begins, _are people who can change willingly into an animal. i say willingly to distinguish from others like werewolves._

 

remus visibly flinches, and sirius launches into a coughing fit from the other side of the room to draw attention away from him. peter pulls a bar of chocolate from his robes and slides it across the table to remus, who breaks out into the widest smile peter’s seen from him since he’d gotten back from the last full moon. peter grins back, feeling a tiny bit accomplished.

 

_the process is dangerous and takes months if not years, and the initial transformation is painful. some liken it to being ripped apart from the inside out._

 

remus snaps off a piece of chocolate rather viciously. peter doesn’t comment on it.

 

_after the first transformation, though, it becomes significantly easier. many animagi say their animagus form is a separate conscience from their own, but still part of them. for many, it begins to feel empty if they do not transform for a long time. many wish to live as their animagus form._

 

remus lets out a huff of breath that peter recognizes is supposed to be a laugh, but comes out sounding like a choked off sob. another coughing fit explodes from the corner of the room. james this time, peter thinks.

 

 _wish i could never transform,_ remus whispers bitterly. peter isn’t quite sure how to respond. he pulls out another chocolate bar he’d hidden in the folds of his robes. this time the sound remus makes is definitely a stifled laugh, and peter grins even wider.

 

.

 

sirius always checks whether his mail is a howler. they’d figured out a spell the second month of first year, after he’d received his third howler of the week.

 

this is the first time he forgets to check. it feels as if something physically rips through peter’s chest when he sees sirius’s face fall. sirius, who was strong and fought for the rest of them and had kept up a brave face for years.

 

peter whispers a quiet spell and the howler is shredded apart. sirius sets it on fire with flames reflecting in his eyes and a fierce gratitude in the soft _thank you_ he murmurs to peter, grabbing his hand and squeezing it with what seemed like all the strength of the anger pent up in his thirteen-year-old wiry muscles. it hurts but peter collects the pain with a proud grin.

 

* * *

**iv.**

* * *

 

_we’ll be reviewing werewolves today, what with the recent attacks…_

 

remus is conspicuously absent from today’s defence against the dark arts class, peter notices. he catches sirius’s eye from across the room, who shakes his head _._ he nods and turns his gaze to james, who appears to be listening intently. he looks back at sirius and tilts his head at james, and they both hide a grin. _teacher’s pet,_ sirius mouths. _evans is here,_ peter replies silently. they both roll their eyes when james’s hand suddenly shoots up.

 

_professor? is there any way to help a werewolf’s bloodlust?_

 

_if they run with a pack, it is said that they will be less threatening. but we don’t need more werewolves, do we?_

 

 _what if they’re different animals?_ james presses. his eyes are narrowed and his eyebrows pulled together in that familiar way that he has when he’s coming up with an idea.

 

_potter, no animal in their right mind would go near a werewolf. moving on…_

 

james finally looks over at peter. _for remus,_ he mouths. peter isn’t sure how that would help—was he planning to send a cat with remus?—but there was a light in james’s eyes that he doesn’t think he was imagining. he’s thought of something, peter’s sure. he wishes that just once he could help too.

 

.

 

peter glances over at sirius and james, fast asleep in their beds. he tiptoes over to the window and peers at the moon. a sliver is cut out of it, enough for him to be sure that it is not the full moon tonight. even so, remus was not back yet. It was normal for him to sometime stay for a few more days at the shack. for some reason, though, right now peter can’t bear knowing that remus is there alone.

 

his heart thumps erratically as he slips out, though he’s done this many times with the rest of them. it is not a long walk to hogsmeade, and he ducks into the edges of the forest to conceal him. the shrieking shack stands tall on the hill, and—

 

there is a quiet string of notes drifting from the empty windows, hollow and mournful. _lumos_ , peter whispers, and there is a figure in the shadows, silvery moonlight painting the outline of a pianist’s hands, dancing nimbly across the keys. _hey, peter._

 

 _remus,_ he breathes. then, _i thought you might want some company._ remus does not voice a response to that. his fingers move to answer peter, coaxing out a melody that tells of dark nights and salty tears.

 

.

 

sirius shows up at peter’s doorstep one night. _james is on vacation, remus is resting,_ he says by way of explanation, and it’s no secret that peter’s his last resort but he doesn’t mind. he is surprised sirius would come here anyway.

 

he sometimes worries sirius still sees him as the eleven year old who could barely look him in the eye. but they are fourteen now and peter peers down at the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor and meets sirius’s gaze. _talk about something,_ peter tells him. _get your mind off of it._

 

 _do you ever think about joining the war, pete?_ sirius asks immediately.

 

 _no,_ peter scoffs. _do you have a death wish?_

 

the silence screams in his ears. _sirius?_

 

 _i’m tired,_ sirius says abruptly. _night._

 

* * *

**v.**

* * *

 

 _shh,_ james hisses, pulling the invisibility cloak from his shoulders. _’s just me._

 

 _and me!_ sirius adds, emerging from under the cloak. james elbows him to silence him. _i have an idea,_ james explains. _don’t wake remus up._

 

 _remus is impossible to wake up,_ peter answers, joining them under the cloak. _what are we hiding from him?_

 

james only smile a cryptic little smile and starts walking, leaving peter and sirius no choice but to follow him. sirius tries to guess where they’re going— _hogsmeade? the kitchens? james, c’mon mate, i’m dying here—_ but when james suddenly veers right, both sirius and peter stop in their tracks.

 

 _the library?_ sirius demands, so loudly that peter claps a hand over his mouth and drags him inside. _don’t suppose you suddenly want to study._

 

 _you complete and utter idiot,_ james says sincerely, a heavy book in his arms. he drops it on the table and starts flipping through it by the light of his wand. _animagi,_ he whispers to himself, running a finger down the index pages, and peter’s breath catches in his throat.

 

 _for remus,_ peter whispers, and james looks up at him with an almost ferocious grin. it is in this moment that peter realizes that james would, if it ever came down to it, lay down his life for all of them.

 

 _i’ve been planning this for a while,_ james says, pushing the book towards them with the page opened to the section on becoming an animagus. _finally figured out where to get most of the ingredients for the potion and everything. you in?_

 

he recalls mcgonagall telling them that the process is long and dangerous, and that the pain of the first transformation is indescribable. sirius interrupts his train of thought and laughs as if refusing to go through with this is a ridiculous thought. ‘ _course we are. right, pete?_

 

then he thinks of the inhuman howls he hears on full moons, sounds ripped from remus’s throat as he transforms. and he knows there is no other choice but to do this. it is the only thing he can do for his friend. james had just seen it before they had.

 

_right._

 

.

 

remus was staring at all of them with such a confused expression that peter almost laughs. as it was, he lets out an odd coughing noise and proceeds to begin choking on the mandrake leaf held between his teeth. james and sirius watch him with amusement for a few seconds before starting to look concerned.

 

_peter don’t you dare—_

 

 _i’m fine,_ he reassures sirius, after finally getting the leaf back in its previous position. remus lifts an eyebrow at them, unimpressed.

 

 _so you’re telling me,_ remus says flatly, _that this moth chrysalis is for a prank. what exactly does this prank involve? aside from the three of you all mysteriously acquiring a lisp, of course._

 

 _nothing!_ they all chorus in unison. remus looks between them and shrugs in defeat. he seems to deflate a little, and peter exchanges a look with the others. it would be so much easier to just tell him before he thinks they’re hiding something from him. especially him, of all people. james shakes his head adamantly, though.

 

the next full moon was a relief, though peter was horrified to find out he’d gotten used to the mandrake leaf in his mouth and it felt strange without it. he almost wanted it back.

 

 _well,_ james says. _now the incantation bit. can’t be that hard._

 

it proved to be very, very hard.

 

they could speak without a lisp now, at least. but what they hadn’t considered was having to wake up at exactly sunrise and having to sprint off somewhere at exactly sunset. sunrise wasn’t a problem, aside from having to wake up at _the asscrack of dawn,_ in sirius’s words. the problem came with sunset, when remus was awake and with them and very aware that they were running off somewhere without him every day.

 

 _right,_ remus says one night at dinner, as peter slides into the seat next to him, james and sirius taking their places opposite them. _i suppose i can safely assume that the three of you were off working on whatever required you to obtain a death’s head hawk moth chrysalis and develop a lisp for a month? and that i’m still not allowed to be part of it?_

 

peter ignores james’s and sirius’s warning looks directed at him. _oh, remus,_ he blurts out, dropping his fork and knife with a clatter that he ignores. _it’s all been to help you. we were trying to surprise you._

 

_what?_

 

peter casts a quick look around. nobody is paying attention to them. he puts his wand to his chest and says, just loud enough for remus to hear: _amato animo animato animagus._

 

james sighs and shakes his head at peter. but there’s a relieved smile on his face when he sees the stunned expression remus is wearing. _you can run with a pack now._

 

sirius lifts his own wand to his chest, james mirroring him, and they whisper the incantation. peter looks over at remus and panics a little when he sees tears pooling in his eyes. _remus, hey._

 

 _i thought you guys didn’t want me around anymore,_ he admits softly. _thank you. thank you so much._

 

peter throws his arms around one of his best friends without a moment’s hesitation. after a second, remus hugs him back. the shakiness in his thin arms does not go unnoticed by peter.

 

_it’ll be better from now on._

 

.

 

 _amato animo animato animagus,_ james mutters, wand in his left hand and the quill in his right hand never ceasing its motion across the parchment as he spoke the incantation. peter follows suit and so does sirius a moment later. then there’s a sudden sharp intake of breath from sirius and a scrambling as he clambers onto james’s bed, the one closest to him.

 

 _jamesjamesjames,_ he gasps out, _heartbeats—two—like the books said—_

 

and then peter and james both suck in a breath at the same time. remus is watching them, looking confused again.

 

 _two heartbeats,_ james explains quickly, his hand pressed to his chest. _you’re supposed to be able to feel two after saying the incantation for a while._ he looks at sirius then. _i don’t feel it,_ he says softly.

 

peter looks up at sirius too. _neither do i,_ and he can’t help but feel crushed. james looks miserable.

 

 _what if it didn’t work for us?_ james asks nobody in particular. sirius shakes his head so quickly peter is a little worried it’ll fall off.

 

_shut up, james. it will._

 

he’s right, in the end. james finds his second heartbeat a day later, and peter finds his a day after that. peter, however, doesn’t voice his worries that his feels fainter than the others describe theirs. more fluttery than pounding, more of a thrum than an beat. it’s there, though, and for that he’s grateful.

 

it all makes sense a month later, when lightning crashes and they sprint to the room of requirement to retrieve their potions. the mandrake leaf and dew and chrysalis had somehow reduced themselves into a single mouthful of blood-red liquid. they slip out into the forbidden forest and down the potions and there is everything and nothing all at once and—

 

peter blinks. the first thing he sees from this new perspective near the ground is a massive mound of black fur. it moves and he can make out the shape of a head lowering itself to his level. there’s a nose and two brown eyes and then a familiar barking laugh, except this time it’s an actual bark. because that’s a dog he’s staring at, shaggy and black and _of course_ sirius is a dog, loyal and loving. he feels rather insignificant next to sirius.

 

peter steps forward tentatively and prods at sirius’s snout with a paw. the dog bares his teeth at peter and lets out another barking laugh as peter skitters away. he sees james then, majestic and proud, and he scrambles to join him. he feels a bit better now that sirius looks small next to the stag too. but looking up to james and sirius, especially, is a familiar feeling for him anyway.

 

* * *

**vi.**

* * *

 

 _alright, wormtail?_ james greets him. peter grins at the nickname, one they’d come up with on the train back home from hogwarts. he pulls a face at what precedes it, though.

 

 _save the alright for evans,_ peter teases. _how’s your summer?_

 

 _i had an idea,_ james begins, like he always does. this is familiar. peter leans forward in his seat and remus and sirius look up from where they’re building a tower with exploding snap cards, particularly challenging on a moving train. _we make a map of hogwarts._

 

the three of them are…unimpressed. _a map,_ sirius clarifies. _of hogwarts. you, you do realize, there are maps of hogwarts that exist?_

 

peter snorts and remus raises his eyebrows at james, who lets out an exasperated sigh and gestures frantically. _you’re all stupid,_ he whines. _a_ magical _map. one that tracks all the secret passages even when they change. so we can sneak out._

 

 _maybe we can make it show where people are, too,_ peter offers timidly. james beams and points at him, and peter sits up a little taller. _thank you, pete. someone here understands me._

 

he glows a little at the praise. but of course, when they actually begin talking spells and charms, he falls silent again. james is so clearly in charge and confident that for a while peter pays attention to that rather than the actual plan. he wishes he could be like that for once. instead, when the three of them run out of ideas and james declares his brain has gone dry, peter turns into a mouse and subsequently triggers the start of a game in which dog-sirius tried to eat him. that is ended quickly when he scampers out to steal a few treats from the trolley-witch. this, at least, he can do for them.

 

.

 

this routine is well-practiced by now. peter transforms and hits the ground running, weaving between the branches of the whomping willow and scrambling up the trunk, paws gripping the smallest of ridges to pull himself up. he pushes down on the knot and the tree stills, and sirius and james hurry through the passage that opens.

 

a howl rips out into the night, and though they’re in the tunnel and the sound is muffled, it still sends chills down peter’s spine. when they emerge in the shrieking shack, he looks back to see sirius already a dog. james opens the door for them and peter follows sirius out while james transforms behind them. they are the pack now.

 

there’s a series of three short barks as the dog approaches the wolf, who stares at them with narrowed eyes. the dog stops a few feet away from moony and lets the wolf close the distance between them, sniffing at padfoot’s shaggy black fur. wormtail hears a soft snuffle behind him and turns to find prongs next to him, bending down so he can clamber on his back.

 

moony howls again but this time it’s one of joy. he chases padfoot around for a bit before they race off into the night, twin canine shadows loping into the woods. prongs canters after them and wormtail closes his eyes as the wind whips over them. he opens them when they come to a stop and finds moony watching them, head cocked to the side and mouth hanging open in an approximation of a smile. this is what made it all worth it.

 

.

 

it had been peter’s idea for them to all stay at hogwarts over christmas break. sirius had hugged him, unexpectedly. but he’d refused and said he would try just one last time. they’d parted at the platform and the last thing peter had seen was sirius standing alone, waving at them and trying to hide the fact that he was looking frantically for his family.

 

peter sends owls to the others wishing them a merry christmas and receives a reply from james and remus immediately. there is no reply from sirius. not until a few days before they head back to hogwarts, and james’s owl arrives with a roll of parchment clutched in its claws. the letter is only a few sentences, but every sentence seems to alternate with different handwriting. he realizes with a jolt that he recognizes both. _hey, pete,_ it starts out, all long letters and scratchy lines. all james.

 

 _guess what?_ the next line reads, ink splattered a little across the page. unmistakably sirius. _i finally got disowned._

 

the next time they see each other on the hogwarts express, sirius looks a great deal happier. the dark circles under his eyes are considerably lighter and he greets them all with the brightest smile peter has seen from him. but it doesn’t escape peter’s notice how sirius flinches at the slightest touch from any of them until he registers who it is and forces himself to relax, muscles loosening slowly in a manner that can only be deliberate. he doesn’t ask about it. sirius is sirius and won’t talk about it unless he brings it up. he doubts even james knows everything and if sirius didn’t tell james, he certainly wouldn’t say anything to peter.

 

until he does. remus is recovering in the hospital wing and james, who had somehow gotten himself on speaking terms with evans this year, is off flirting with her in the common room. peter is perched on his bed attempting to read his charms textbook with little success, and sirius, who was supposed to be doing the same thing, had given up completely, his textbook lying face-down somewhere on the floor across the room.

 

 _wormtail,_ sirius begins hesitantly, and peter looks up at him. _you don’t think the potters will think i’m a burden, do you?_

 

and peter knows that feeling all too well. _of course not,_ he says. _you’re you. they love you. we love you._

 

sirius nods slowly. _you know we love you too, right?_ he catches peter’s gaze and holds it unwaveringly. _don’t ever feel like you’re less than us._

 

_how did you—_

 

 _you’re not that hard to read,_ sirius says. _and truth be told, me and james were unsure about you. but i don’t regret it. none of us do. we aren’t the marauders without you._

 

* * *

**vii.**

* * *

 

 _okay, head boy,_ peter grins, and james is practically glowing as he steps aside to let peter in. peter waves quickly at james’s parents before following james up the stairs two at a time and bursting into james’s and sirius’s shared room.

 

 _finally,_ remus smiles at peter. _prongs,_ now _will you show us?_

 

james rummages in a drawer before pulling out a small package, carefully wrapped in brown paper. he unwraps it meticulously to reveal his badge, red and gold glimmering in the sunlight. they peer at it in awe. peter smiles, not because of the badge, but because he catches a glimpse of james’s expression, proud and uncertain all at the same time.

 

 _why me?_ james asks quietly, looking around at them. _i get in trouble all the time._

 

peter’s gaze drifts across the room, resting first on sirius sitting cross-legged on the mattress that had become a permanent addition to james’s floor, then at remus, fiddling with the moon shaped-pendant hanging from a chain around his neck. he thinks back to when james had first spoken to him, only the second person at hogwarts to talk to peter willingly. he meets james’s hazel eyes, wide and anxious.

 

 _prongs,_ peter begins, pausing significantly at james’s nickname. _of course they picked you._

 

.

 

mcgonagall paces up and down the classroom. _your second interviews will be next week,_ she says, looking each of them in the eye before speaking again. _you will be meeting with me, or your respective head of house, and discussing what you intend to do after graduating. that way we can make sure you still want to do what you wanted to do when you picked classes in sixth year._

 

after class they sit outside and remus looks up at them with an unshakable exhaustion. _there’s no point,_ he says softly. _i’m a werewolf. we don’t get any chances._

 

 _yes you do,_ peter finds himself saying fiercely. _anyone would want you more than me, if they could just see you._ remus is blinking away tears.

 

 _the war,_ remus says helplessly. _nobody wants a werewolf working for them. it’s fine. i’ll just…disappear._

 

 _you can’t just give up,_ peter argues. _you can’t leave us. we’re the marauders. we aren’t anything if you leave._

 

 _what would you do?_ remus asks him, then. peter’s reply dies out in his throat.

 

.

 

 _i’m going to fight,_ sirius tells them, after the news of the latest death eater attack. peter does not miss the burning look he casts at the slytherin table. regulus has not looked at sirius, much less spoken to his brother, in so long. _after we graduate. i’m joining the war._

 

 _then we’re joining too,_ james says, in a tone that leaves no room for argument. _we promised, remember? marauders stick together._

 

remus nods, his eyes catching peter’s and holding them. _yes._

 

peter wishes he could swallow his words. _yes. of course._

 

sirius’s fiery grin is almost enough to erase his worry.

 

almost.

 

he never really did make decisions for himself, did he. almost as if he is a black hole, a dying star, only made visible by the light of everything around him.

 

* * *

**viii.**

* * *

 

it is their first year out of hogwarts. a war is raging. their late night prank planning sessions have, somewhere along the line, shifted into late night meetings at increasingly hidden locations, trading spells and charms and drawing out strategies like a map. they look over their shoulders at every corner. the wizarding world is at the brink of collapse. and james potter is getting married.

 

it is in these moments that peter sees why james is a stag, seeing his best friend standing at the end of the aisle tall and proud with unashamed tears in his eyes. _i’m so lucky,_ peter sees him mouth to evans— _lily,_ he corrects himself, _lily potter_ —and he grins at james, years of lip-reading and deciphering each other’s facial expressions from across the classroom culminating here. he will tell those stories in his speech later on. but for now he looks at james, then at sirius, then at remus; and he knows that they are all thinking the same thing. they’ve grown up. peter just isn’t sure if he’s ready to face that.

 

 _i would say i’d miss you, but we all know you’ll be practically living at me and lily’s anyway,_ james says to the marauders at the reception, when they’ve stolen a private moment away from their guests. there is a grimness woven somewhere into james’s voice. they know they’ll be over at the potters’ house not just out of friendship, but out of necessity. for planning for the war. for lily, and they all look over at her with her hand resting lightly on her stomach and a little smirk playing at her lips as she glances over at james and winks before returning to her conversation with alice.

 

in this moment, though, the war does not exist for them. _course we’ll be over all the time,_ peter says, smiling lightly. _marauders stick together, yeah?_

 

 _merlin, lily’s going to have four children,_ james sighs, and sirius snorts. _don’t kid yourself prongs, you’re the fifth child._

 

it is their first year out of hogwarts. a war is raging.

 

they laugh as if they are the only thing that matters. and in this moment, they are.

 

.

 

 _why would you want me?_ are the first words that leave remus’s lips, and dumbledore’s expression is impossibly soft.

 

 _my dear boy,_ he says gently, and he is right peter realizes, they are _boys_ they are barely men _what are they thinking—_

 

 _why would we not want you?_ dumbledore says, eyes twinkling as he ushers them into the house. _the order needs strong members. loyal members. all four of you have proven yourselves._

 

 _i told you you’d have a chance, moons,_ peter murmurs to remus, who gives peter a weak smile. _and i told you that you would too,_ remus replies.

 

remus becomes a completely different person in order meetings. he offers up his thoughts—remus had always been good at charms, after all—and his eyes glow with that familiar sense of purpose that takes over when the marauders are out on a run. james and sirius are outspoken as always, but it is remus’s transformation that tugs on a loose string in peter’s chest. he thinks maybe he should be like remus, too. but remus had always been wiser than his years and peter is just peter.

 

he stays silent.

 

.

 

sirius does not smile anymore.

 

there are dark circles under his eyes and a permanent line etched in his brow and a low ruthlessness in his voice. his father is gone, his brother too, and though peter knows sirius does not regret leaving his family, he cannot blame sirius for the grief that manifested in his red-rimmed eyes. none of them know how to help. james and remus have both tried to talk to sirius. it had ended badly. and if they couldn’t talk to him, peter didn’t think he could do very much either.

 

 _i’m scared,_ sirius whispers to him one night after an order meeting, when james and remus have gone home ahead of them. they had agreed to spread out their departures, so as to raise less suspicion about a large group of witches and wizards leaving a secluded area. _i don’t want to die._

 

 _i know,_ peter says. he hesitates. then: _do you remember, padfoot? i asked you, once. you never answered._

 

 _i had a death wish, before,_ sirius admits. _now, not so much._

 

_do you miss them?_

 

 _yes and no,_ sirius admits. _my father was not a cruel man. he did nothing to hurt me. he did nothing to help me, either._

 

_and regulus?_

 

 _i miss my brother,_ sirius says plaintively. _i miss the regulus i knew. before hogwarts. before slytherin. before the death eaters._

 

peter looks up at sirius then. _why don’t you tell prongs and moony? why are you telling me?_

 

sirius’s reply comes easily. _i trust you. i trust them, too. but i know you, pete. you’re the most loyal person i know. sometimes it’s bad,_ and here sirius laughs, a broken little chuckle, and peter smiles weakly. they both remember the countless times peter has tried to step in when sirius was up against several slytherins. _but i know you’d never turn away from us. and you’d never say a word, or ask more questions if i told you to stop._

 

 _that’s just because i’m afraid,_ peter murmurs, and at that sirius barks out a bitter laugh.

 

_we all are, wormtail._

 

* * *

**ix.**

* * *

 

 _harry james potter._ the boy giggles as peter bounces him in his arms. _the chosen one, huh?_

 

 _our little hero,_ james says quietly, a smile on his face but a dark note in his voice that betrays his thoughts. peter lets harry wrap his hand around his finger as he looks up at james.

 

 _nothing’s going to happen to him,_ peter promises. _you know that, right? he’s got all the marauders and evans to protect him._

 

 _it’s potter,_ lily says without looking up from her book. _or, you know, i have a first name too._

 

 _sure, evans,_ peter grins. _just, you know you’ve got us, right?_

 

 _i can’t ask you guys to keep doing this,_ james says. _you could have so much, peter. after the war._

 

 _that’s assuming we win,_ peter answers. _we’re not winning if you’re standing alone. we_ want _to keep doing this. not just to win. you’re not the only one who loves him, you know._

 

harry squeals as if to reply. james pulls peter into a hug, and peter doesn’t say anything when he feels hot tears dripping onto his shoulder.

 

 _my son,_ james whispers faintly, taking harry from him and brushing his fingers absentmindedly over harry’s tufts of jet black hair. _why him? why us? i don’t know if we can do this, peter._

 

james isn’t wrong. the marauders are up against so much more. but peter can’t help but feel as if that was directed at him, almost like james is saying that he doesn’t know if peter can do this.

 

he doesn’t blame anyone for it. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

 

.

 

they were supposed to transform separately, to attract less attention. remus had already returned to his human form, and james has carried him to the potters’ house to recover. sirius was off somewhere, and peter was alone. he glances around before shifting back into a human.

 

_hello, wormtail._

 

peter gasps and tries to run. instead he finds an invisible force holding him in place. _no—please—_

 

 _you could be quite useful,_ voldemort muses. _a spy. what do you say?_

 

_no—_

 

 _i could kill you,_ voldemort says lightly. _you’re really not_ that _useful. to me or to them._

 

peter squeezes his eyes shut tightly. his own words from years ago replay in his mind.

 

he does not have a death wish.

 

 _what do you want?_ peter finally whispers. voldemort’s smile is a horror that burns itself into peter’s memory.

 

he stumbles back to the potters’ house as if in a daze, slipping quietly into the room he shared with remus and sirius that they stayed in during the full moon. remus looks up at him and immediately seems to sense that something is wrong.

 

 _hello, wormtail,_ remus says cautiously. peter hears a colder voice and chokes back a sob.

 

_peter?_

 

 _i’m fine,_ peter manages to get out. _just…saw some death eaters._

 

and he should not let remus comfort him, not right after a full moon and certainly not after what he’d done— _what has he done what has he_ done—but he lets remus give him a blanket and a piece of chocolate and a warm smile.

 

_this is war, pete. we don’t have to be strong all the time._

 

 _i’m not strong,_ peter murmurs around the lump in his throat. _remus, promise me. if i ever do anything, you—you have to kill me._

 

 _what did the death eaters make you do?_ remus asks, more than slightly alarmed. _peter, i can’t—_

 

 _just promise me!_ peter snaps, and the fire in his voice surprises them both. _please,_ he adds, more subdued.

 

 _alright,_ remus sighs. _but you have to tell me, what did they—_

 

 _nothing,_ peter says, _but they—they almost did._

 

 _you’re stronger than that, peter,_ remus says sincerely. the earnestness in his eyes cuts into his soul. _you’d never turn against us._

 

the lie tastes bitter on peter’s lips.

 

_._

 

_sirius i don’t know if that’s a good idea—_

 

_don’t be stupid, peter, of course it is._

 

his eyes are wide and he stares at sirius and wills him to read his mind. to see that peter cannot be trusted with this. to see that he is destroying any hope of a victory.

 

sirius does not see it.

 

 _it’s smart,_ james says. _throw them off. nobody’d expect peter. lils?_

 

 _i trust you, peter,_ she says, her gaze unwavering. _if you’re okay with it?_

 

peter looks at them, taking in their hopeful faces. he could never say no to them, after all. he closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath. _alright. i’ll do it, sirius._

 

dumbledore pronounces peter as secret keeper with the finality of a death sentence. sirius smiles at him after and claps him on the shoulder. _don’t worry, wormtail. they won’t come after you. i’m the decoy. you’ll be safe._

 

of course sirius was a dog. he was too loyal, in the end.

 

* * *

**x.**

* * *

 

 _uncle wormtail!_ harry shrieks, followed by a yelp from lily as she stumbled over harry’s toys trying to get to her son. _harry, don’t—_

 

the boy crashes into peter, a tangle of legs and arms and…a broomstick? peter picks it up and laughs. _james,_ he calls. _raising a star quidditch player, are you?_

 

 _what else would you expect of me?_ james asks, sauntering into the living room. _hey, pete. any news from the order?_

 

 _no,_ peter says, fidgeting with his hands a little. _just wanted to drop by to say hello. and, um, i’ve got to get the last of remus’s things too._

 

remus had purchased his own apartment with money james had inherited from his parents’ death. peter and sirius had been living with him and staying over at the potters’ every few weeks until recently, when sirius had unexpectedly announced that his uncle had sent him money and he’d gotten his own apartment. they all knew the unspoken reason why he was leaving remus’s flat, and why remus had decided that he was not going to stay at the potters ever again.

 

 _can you please tell him that he’s still welcome to stay here after the full moon?_ james asks, following peter up to the spare bedroom. _just because sirius doesn’t trust him anymore doesn’t mean that i don’t._

 

 _sirius is being stupid,_ peter says softly, avoiding james’s imploring look in favor of gathering up the sweaters remus had left in the closet. _he shouldn’t be worried about remus betraying us._

 

 _he shouldn’t be worried about anyone betraying us,_ james says. peter can’t form a reply.

 

instead, he follows james downstairs and sits on the couch across from lily, who’s watching harry flying haphazardly around the living room and crashing into the walls or the cat every five seconds. james sits down on the floor and beckons harry towards him and the boy happily obliges, tumbling off the broomstick into his father’s arms. peter closes his eyes and commits the scene to memory.

 

lily’s head thrown back in laughter. the little crinkles at the corners of james’s eyes. the little tooth poking out from harry’s gums when he smiles. these are the things that peter thinks of, in the seconds before a location spills from his lips. a vicious grin and a cruciatus curse _for fun,_ voldemort says, are his only rewards.

 

.

 

peter knocks lightly on the door before letting himself in. _remus?_

 

 _i talked to sirius today,_ remus says. he is curled up on the couch. there is shattered glass on the carpet and it looks as if he has not moved for hours. _i asked him to have a drink with me. butterbeer. for old times’ sake._

 

 _you two were inseparable,_ peter says. _he needs to remember that._

 

 _it’s war,_ remus sighs, defeatedly. _it’s not his fault. i just miss him._

 

 _you’re not the traitor,_ peter says, and he wins a tired smile. _i’d trust you with my life, remus._

 

kill me, he wants to say. before tonight happens. please.

 

instead, he goes to his room, tells remus he’s tired and he’ll probably be late for dinner, changes into a rat, and disappears into the night.

 

he does not have a death wish.

 

.

 

peter has always known how to read sirius’s dark eyes. he knows the fire that burns behind them. he has gotten used to it over the years. but this time, there is a feral anger in them that strikes fear deep into peter’s soul.

 

 _you,_ sirius spits, his wand raised. _we were wrong about you. we shouldn’t have spoken to you all those years ago._

 

 _you don’t understand,_ peter sobs. _i had no other choice. he was going to_ kill _me, padfoot!_

 

 _don’t. call me. that._ sirius is almost unrecognizable, his sneer angular and sharp and his ever-present grin distorted by a cold hatred. _the rest of us would’ve rather died ten times over than let him so much as lay a finger on lily or james. or_ harry. _how could you?_

 

peter realizes with a jolt that sirius is crying, tears tracing out tracks on his dust-covered cheeks. _we were never going to win,_ peter cries out. _can’t you understand, sirius?_

 

 _i will_ never _understand,_ sirius growls. _you rat. you coward. we took you in, we did so much for you, and you_ used _us. are you happy now, wormtail? now that you’re on the winning side? you could’ve died a martyr._

 

 _i’ll die a hero,_ peter says, and he cannot deny that the words taste sweet on his lips. he looks sirius in the eye and draws in a deep breath. _sirius black,_ he screams, _he is guilty, he betrayed the potters!_

 

the last thing he sees, before the world explodes around him, are sirius’s eyes. they are wide with fear.

 

 _peter pettigrew, a hero,_ the headlines read. he can only hear them in sirius’s voice.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments always appreciated :)


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